One Trace of Darkness
by Jasmine2009
Summary: A witness insists that she be protected by Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but the question is, why?
1. Chapter 1

Title: One Trace of Darkness

Author: Jasmine

Rated: T

Universe: NCIS, Season 6

Summary: A witness insists that she be protected by Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but the question is, why?

Warning: The subject matter, it deals with S&M, but nothing explicit. Also a few curse words.

Challenge: I was shooting for a 10,000 word story, but didn't make it. Maybe next time.

Disclaimer: I make no money off this.

Date: January 1, 2011

****************************************8

"If you want me to testify, that's my deal. Take it or leave it."

Gibbs studied the woman; she was provocatively confident. He prided himself on reading people, having developed that intangible skill of knowing when someone was lying or not, and right now, he knew that she wasn't bluffing. "I'm not sure I can do that."

"You can do anything you want, Agent Gibbs, and more if you think there's a conviction in there somewhere. Ask Fornell. He knows."

On the other side of the mirror, Ziva and McGee gave each other a concerned look. Tim, however, turned his confusion to intrigue after only a moment for he liked it when the senior field agent was set in the crosshairs, "I can't wait until Tony hears this."

Ziva harrumphed, "Gibbs will never grant it."

"I don't know, Ziva. We've been after Captain Bowers for six months. Longest case I ever remember working. And now Gibbs has an opportunity to nail him and all he has to do is grant one tiny request." Oh the fun he was going to have with this, he mused.

"I do not think it is all that tiny a request, McGee. In fact, I think it is pretty big and not very feasible."

But Tim was in his own world, thinking about this latest development in a case that had more twists and turns than the Milton Bradley game.

*********************************8

"Do it," Fornell said.

Gibbs was taken aback by the speed at which Tobias answered. He didn't even give it a second thought. "I don't like to use my people like that."

"Give me a break, Jethro. This is Special Agent DiNotso we're talking about. You think he'd pass up an opportunity like this?"

Gibbs couldn't put his finger on it, but something just wasn't right about it.

"Why the hesitation, Jethro? DiNotso's single, handsome, available, and qualified to do the job. She's single, beautiful, multi-talented, and willing to testify. If she wants him in exchange for testimony, give him to her. And in the process, you'd probably be doing him a favor."

Gibbs stretched his neck. There was no reason to deny her request other than his gut was telling him to. As for Tony, to deny him an opportunity to be with this particular woman did seem inhumane. Still, he couldn't help feeling like none of this was what it seemed.

*********************************8

The bullpen was unusually quiet. Ziva looked across at McGee and then sideways at Gibbs; both were diligently nose down in work. Then she looked across at Tony's desk, empty. Seemed to be the usual anymore where her partner was concerned. After the fiasco with Jeanne Benoit, and then the Director's death, Tony seemed less than eager to fill special assignments even though he was more in demand now than ever before.

She cocked her head at the commotion coming from the elevator and let a feeling of relief wash over her when she heard his voice. She wondered if Gibbs would be pacified with his excuse this time.

"Sorry, Boss, I ran the evidence across town to the FBI headquarters and got caught in traffic on the White Hurst Freeway. Won't happen again." He had already tossed his backpack and stowed his weapon when he heard his boss call his name. It was the kind of tone that you use when you're going to delivery bad news, not when you're getting ready to chew someone out for being late.

"Yeah, Boss."

"I need to talk to you."

"Sure. What about?"

"I need you to run protection detail for Chantal Payne."

"What?"

Gibbs wondered if this was going to be a tough sell or if his agent would be happy about the assignment. Something told him Tony wasn't going to be very happy. If that were the case, he hoped he didn't have to resort to anything more than a stern look, but the only thing predictable about his senior field agent was that he was unpredictable. Maybe he'd go peacefully, maybe not. "Take her to the safe house and babysit her for two days, just until Captain Bowers is arraigned."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea… Is this about me being late because I told you I—?"

"Nope."

"Then… I don't understand?"

"It was her call."

"_Her_ call?"

"Yeah. She requested that you be the agent in charge."

"Since when do we take requests?"

"Since she's the only witness we have and her testimony is going to bring down Captain Bowers."

"Tell her we don't work that way."

"Too late. She already knows we do."

Tim had started out being eager to hear the conversation, but now he was having doubts. He had originally thought that Tony might jump at the idea of being with Chantal; after all, she is one of the most beautiful women in the business, even if she was a few years older than him. But Tony didn't seem too excited to be doing it. In fact, he appeared unusually perturbed by such a request.

"That's bullshit!"

"I know," but instead of elaborating, Gibbs picked up his coffee cup and left the bullpen.

Tony stared after him, repeating quietly to himself, "That's bullshit."

"Most men would jump at this opportunity, Tony," Ziva said, looking up at her agitated partner. "In fact, from what I have heard, most agents are disappointed she chose you."

Tony mumbled something inaudible and returned to his desk.

McGee added, "You know, Tony, you shouldn't make this out as such a hardship. From what I hear, she can do things in the bedroom that most men only dream about."

After a moment, Ziva and McGee shared a worried look. There had been no arguing from him, no debate, no smart ass quips; he just stared into space. They approached his desk and looked down on him.

"What."

"You have just been handed an agent's dream assignment, yet you are not very happy about it."

"I don't like babysitting witnesses."

"I wouldn't call staying in the same house with Chantal Payne babysitting. She might teach you a thing or two that you don't already know."

Tony had heard enough and abruptly left, leaving them standing and staring at one another.

****************************************8

Gibbs walked into Autopsy expecting to see Ducky, but the place was deserted. There were no bodies on the tables, no Dr. Mallard pontificating on some remotely connected story, and no Palmer. He loitered around a tray of stainless steels utensils. Tools of the trade. He was holding one in his hand when the stainless steel door opened.

"Ah, Jethro, I didn't expect to see you here. I have already sent Mr. Palmer to delivery my reports. If I knew you were coming to pick them up, I would have kept them."

"I'm not here for that, Duck."

"Well then, what can I do for you today?"

Gibbs set the knife down and said, "I just had to order Tony to be Chantal Payne's protection detail. And I have a bad feeling about this."

"Ah, your gut's telling you not to."

"Yeah."

"So assign someone else. I overheard Agents Timmons and Perez wishing they had the assignment."

"She specifically chose DiNozzo."

"The curse of being an extremely handsome and available young man. I wouldn't know anything about that," he added, hoping to lighten the mood.

"She said she won't testify against Bowers if he isn't the one protecting her. There's something," he paused, finding the right word. Giving up, he said, "There's something not right about it."

"You think the witness is extorting a couple nights alone with our Anthony in exchange for her testimony. Let me ask you this: Would you do the same if a witness had requested Ziva?"

The sliding doors opened and Tony hurried in. "Ducky—" he stopped short upon seeing his boss. "Oh, I didn't expect to see you here. I'm down here because…I…thought…that I… would get Ducky's report. Is your report finished?"

Ducky smiled at his recovery and said, "Finished AND delivered, I'm sorry, Anthony."

Accepting that, he nodded and backed away, "Not a problem, I'll just go—"

"—Tony," Gibbs said, preventing his exit. "Come here."

In the split second of silence that followed, Tony weighed his options of putting up an argument or simply obeying his boss's request. His body did exactly what his mind didn't want it to do and he found himself standing a few feet from his boss.

"It's out of my hands."

"I don't understand. Just assign someone else to protect her."

"Both Director Vance and Fornell signed off on it. She requested you and, as far as they're concerned, if it will guarantee her testimony, it's you she gets."

Tony wanted to say more, but as was often the case when his boss confronted him, he stood silently. Gibbs realized that his paralysis was a result of a certain upbringing and coaxed him on. "What's on your mind?"

Ducky watched the agent closely. Something was deeply troubling him.

Tony swallowed, trying to articulate his concerns, searching for words or phrases or entire concepts to express himself, but in the end, he said, "Nothing." He turned and left, shoulders stiff from whatever was weighing them down.

Gibbs turned to Dr. Mallard and said, "What do you make of that?"

"He has a good reason, Jethro, but it may be too far buried to reach. And," he pointed out, "if he does manage to reach it, it just might be something better left buried."

*******************************8

Tony and Chantal arrived at the safe house that evening. The two sheriffs escorting them were envious of the duty the NCIS agent had managed to finagle. As far as they were concerned, someone pretty high up must have owed him something pretty big to give him this assignment. He was going to spend two full nights in the company of Chantal Payne. _The_ Chantal Payne! One of them gave Tony a knowing wink while the other clapped him on the back and said, "You lucky bastard."

Tony watched them drive away.

"You haven't said two words to me the whole way here."

He turned around and saw her standing behind him. "We'll be safe here, away from Bowers and anyone he might throw at us. Nobody knows where we are."

She sensed his hesitation, but to her, it added to the challenge.

He avoided staring straight at her even though she was staring straight at him. _Just like SHE used to do. And when he would look her way, she would smile, pleasantly, masking her true intentions_. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, and she simply smiled.

"I have to secure the perimeter. Stay inside."

Once outside, he took in a deep breath, absorbing the crisp autumn air into his lungs. It felt good. Since his bout with the plague, taking a deep, satisfying breath was sometimes elusive. But not tonight. The sky was clear and the air cool, and it helped to clear his head. Why couldn't he just tell Gibbs his problem? Because Gibbs wouldn't understand. Hell, _he _barely understood it.

Looking up at the stars, he made a silent vow. He'd manage these next two nights, however difficult they may be. A woman, the likes of Chantal Payne, was not going to get the best of him. Then, when the detail was all over, he would laugh about his fears. And no one would ever be none the wiser. There was one saving grace in this situation. Neither Ziva nor McGee had any idea what was troubling him. It would not set well if either of them was aware of his past.

When he returned to the cabin, she was reading a book. She had changed into a heavier sweater and black yoga pants. It made her seem more human and less…predatory. He shook his head of the image and said, "I'll make us some dinner. I hope you like pizza."

With the exception of two slices, most of the pie sat untouched on the stove. She mused out loud, "I would think a guy like you could eat a whole pizza in one sitting. Yet you've barely eaten one slice."

"Well, usually I can, but I'm not very hungry tonight." He took his plate and her plate to the kitchen and felt her eyes following him the whole way. He dropped the plates in the sink and then tried to prevent a cold wave of anxiety from permeating his body. "I have to check the perimeter again. Don't leave this house."

He was never so thankful to be away from her. He walked around the cabin hoping to ebb the flow of tension that was brewing. This was not a good situation for him, but he didn't know how to get out of it. To do that meant to share a secret that nobody, and he emphasized to himself again, _nobody_ knew anything about, not even his own father. Shaking those thoughts aside, he returned to the porch, thankful that the cabin was exactly as it was the last time he'd checked. The night was cooler, but he didn't feel it. He could see his breath as he breathed, which seemed faster than usual, so he forced himself to take slower, longer breaths. It seemed to help. Returning inside, he noticed she had cleaned the plates and put the food away.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to do that; you're a guest and a very important one."

She seemed pleased with his words and replied, "I don't mind. I was thinking you and I could relax, maybe get to know one another."

He steeled his nerves and plastered on a false smile; he could handle this situation. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

He took the coffee she offered and watched as she sat down on one of two cushioned chairs. She pointed to the empty one and said, "Have a seat. We're not going anywhere."

He did as she suggested, forcing a smile and trying to appear relaxed.

"By now, I guess you know that I requested you?"

"I wouldn't call what you did a request."

"True, but they would have stuck me with some female agent, like that one you work with. David?"

"Dᾰvi︠d."

"Yes, Dᾰvi︠d, and I didn't want that. Nor did I want some wet behind the ears awe struck FBI agent staring me down. Like Socks?"

"Sacks, or as I like to call him, Slacks. I see your point."

"And lastly, I didn't want some computer geek gaining bragging rights for his on-line playmates."

He considered her remark and shrugged. McGee was too much the gentleman to brag, but some of the FBI nerds probably weren't. As he listened, he could hear a hint of sadness in her voice.

_Just like her_.

But in her line of business, talking was only secondary to her primary work. She was in the business of sex. She sold it, performed it, and made millions off it. And now, if he wasn't careful, she was going to talk her way right into his bed. He stood and walked to the window, feigning to check it. Looking back at her, he stated, "So that just left me to protect you."

"Not exactly." She got up from her chair and approached him. Caressing his arm and shoulder, she cooed, "I knew I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you. But you really surprise me. I can tell you don't want me and that intrigues me. Few men, and when I say few men I really mean zero men, have ever refused me, but I sense that you don't want me. Why?"

He pulled his arm away and answered, "I was hired to protect you, Ms. Payne, not to sleep with you."

"Trust me, no one will care what you and I do together. In fact, if I were a betting girl, I'd bet they're expecting us to do something. You, Agent DiNozzo, are the talk of the agencies right now. And the happier I am, the better witness I can be."

"Are you suggesting that one is tied to the other?"

She stroked his arm again and cooed, "I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial activity between two consenting adults."

Her words stung in a way he hadn't felt in years, but his body was reacting to her soft caresses and subtle perfume and he was being transported back to a time where this was wrong. _Where his mind said no but his body said yes. Where the woman was a friend, trusted and dedicated by day, but by night, another person emerged, teaching him the ways of a world that was far removed from anything he'd ever known. A world where sex was about control and flagellation and pain._

He pulled away, his own brain sending him contradictory signals where all he wanted to do was slam his head against the wall to stop the images from solidifying in his mind's eye. "Go away," he softly pleaded. "Go away."

****************************8

The ringing incorporated itself into his dream and he answered it. But soon he realized that the ringing was real and that a dream wouldn't make it stop. He fumbled for his phone on the coffee table.

"Yeah," Gibbs said, rubbing one hand over his face. He couldn't make out the name before he answered it, but he sensed it was someone important. "Hello?" he repeated, clearing his throat.

Tony had almost hung up, but if he had, Gibbs would have sent the entire Navy to the safe house. Having second thoughts as an agent had better be done before the first ring because hang-ups caused major worry among the higher ups. "Ah…yeah…Boss, it's me, Tony."

Gibbs sat up, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah—yeah, everything's fine. She's asleep," he said, but he wasn't certain. When he had left the cabin earlier, he hadn't returned, and that was hours ago.

Gibbs waited for more. He checked his watch and finally broke the silence, "It's three in the morning, DiNozzo, what'd'ya want?"

Immediately, he knew it was a mistake and he regretted making the call. "Just checking in, is all. I'll check in again in the morning."

Gibbs sat with the phone to his ear listening to the dead air. Finally he lowered it and wondered what the hell that was all about.

Tony snuck back into the cabin, undetected. She was indeed asleep in the only bed, so he sat in the over-stuffed chair near the window. It was stupid of him to call Gibbs and he chastised himself for it. No harm done, he convinced himself; he'd simply call again in the morning and set things right.

**TBC**

_**Any and all comments are greatly appreciated. It helps the creative juices to keep on flowing! Thanks, ~Jasmine**_


	2. Chapter 2

***********************************8

_I've been waiting for this day for a very long time, she had said to him, pulling him away from his 16__th__ birthday party. I have a surprise for you. _

_He loved surprises and he loved her: the beautiful Italian woman who had helped him through his mother's death and was always there for him when his own father wasn't. She had been his mother's best friend growing up and now she had become the envy of all his friends. She had promised his mother that she'd look after him, and she did in a way that only a beautiful woman could, from a distance. But that was all about to change. Tonight was different; she was different. _

_She drove him into town to a small gallery where up and coming artists displayed their works. She owned and operated it, and from what he'd heard about the place, it carried some very valuable pieces, but the store itself never made much money. Rich people had their portraits commissioned, and poor people couldn't afford her place, but the store was a tax deduction, or so that's what his father had been told, and he'd only ever been there once with his mother years earlier. _

_She took his hand and they walked through the door. He wondered if she had requisitioned a painting of him, but she guided him past all the fine works and up a narrow staircase and into the attic where canvasses and statues were stacked eight and ten feet deep. As they came to a wooden door, she pulled a lone key from her purse and unlocked it. Before she would let him go through, she brushed her lips to his ear and whispered words that he had never forgetten. She said, "When you walk through this door, your world will forever change."_

_And it did. _

"Agent DiNozzo, wake up. Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony jerked awake, seeing Chantal Payne's face very near his.

"You were having a bad dream."

He blinked, assessing his situation. "Are you okay?" he mumbled, getting his bearings and remembering where he was and why.

"I'm fine. I made us some breakfast. Do you like eggs?"

He rubbed a hand down his face and stretched, "What time is it?"

"Seven in the morning. I'm an early riser."

"Yes, but no."

"Excuse me?" she asked, resuming her ministrations in the kitchen.

"I like eggs, but I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'll leave them here in case you change your mind."

He used the bathroom and then checked the house again. When he returned, she commented, "Are you expecting something to happen while we're here, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"No. Why?"

"Because you're always going outside and checking the cabin. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me. But a guy like you can't avoid me forever, you know."

The threat hung in the air like diesel fumes, and it made him nauseous. Without speaking, he went outside again, needing to breathe in fresh air. The late fall morning was crisp and clean and sunny. It was going to be a beautiful day and if it were Sunday, he'd be preparing to watch the football game, but it was only Tuesday, and he was stuck in a safe house protecting a witness.

Some protection, he mused. If Bowers showed up right now, he just might hand her over. Then he'd lie down in that bed and go to sleep.

His ears picked up when he heard a faint sound in the distance. Returning to the house, he locked the door behind him and peeked out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Stay out of sight. Get into the bathroom and shut the door."

She did as she was told. Two black sedans were making their way down the overgrown drive. One of them looked familiar, and as it approached, he could see four people inside. Holstering his gun, he yelled, "It's okay, Ms. Payne, you can come out."

Gibbs, Ziva, Tim, and Allison Hart got out of the first car and Fornell, Slacks, and Higgins got out of the second one. They all stretched as it was a good two hour drive through the back towns of western Maryland to reach the place.

From the porch he wondered why seven people were making the trip. Maybe something had come up with the case. "Bowers die of a heart attack and there's no longer going to be a trial?" he asked, praying the latter half of his statement was correct.

"Not exactly," McGee answered, giving him the once over and furrowing his brow.

Ziva raised hers as well at his appearance and asked, "Rough night?"

"No. Why do you ask?" he said, becoming agitated with her suggestion.

"No reason. You may do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

He didn't like what she was insinuating, but then again, he wasn't exactly sure what she was insinuating.

Fornell gave him the once over, smiling at his general disheveled appearance and asked, "You have any problems last night?"

"No, were you expecting any?"

He shrugged, "Can never be too careful when you're dealing with a serial killer."

Tony instantly knew she was standing behind him by the way they were looking. Higgins especially acted like a schoolboy, drooling at the sight of a pretty teacher. He puffed up and rested his hands on his hips, displaying his FBI badge and weapon. Tony almost rolled his eyes but didn't get the chance because she stepped up next to him, very near to him, and slid her arm through his.

"Agent Gibbs, Fornell," she greeted. Then she frowned as her tall agent stepped away from her. "I hope you haven't come to take him away. He's doing a wonderful job protecting me."

Gibbs shook his head, "No, he's staying. But Ms. Hart has a few questions she needs to have clarified before the trial."

She flashed her lawyer a smile and replied, "Of course, please come in." All eyes were on her as she and the lawyer disappeared inside the cabin.

For a computer geek, McGee had some pretty decent interpersonal skills, and he could read his colleague like he could bust through a firewall. He saw the tension in his friend's body as it seemed to grip his shoulders and arms and he quickly realized that today was not the day to tease him about his unkempt appearance. "I brought you the sports section of the paper," he said, handing it over.

"Thanks."

"You got plans for the game this Sunday? Ziva and I were thinking about watching it at Al's Sports Bar. They got a new ninety-two inch LCD screen, high definition."

Tony was beginning to relax, although the porch seemed a bit crowded now that everyone was on it, and Higgins was antsy, grinning like he wanted to say something. "Yeah, that sounds good," Tony answered, thinking an afternoon of drinking and watching the game would be a nice distraction from this assignment.

Ziva added, "I think Abby is coming. She wants to get Sister Rosita and Sister Mary to watch a game. She said something about broadening their worlds."

He smiled at the image of downing a few brews with a couple of nuns and thought that would be a first.

Gibbs observed the change in his agent. His shoulders loosened slightly and his facial muscles relaxed. He even leaned back against the railing, casual like. Gibbs was pleased that Ziva and McGee were having the intended effect on his agent. Worked every time, and it was the only reason he'd brought them along. Tony only ever let a very few people into his world and Ziva and McGee were a member of that club. They could say things and do things that others only dreamt about saying and doing. In turn, he would open up, let his guard down, and relax. He looked like he needed it, too.

That is until Higgins opened his mouth. "So, tell me," he leaned over towards Tony and whispered, like one buddy might whisper to another, "what's she like?"

Tony lost his smile and straightened his back.

"I hear she knows things and does things that guys only dream about. By the looks of you, she must have kept you up all night—."

Higgins found himself plastered against the house with blazing eyes glaring down on him. "What are you implying?" Tony seethed.

"Nuthin'!" he sputtered, not realizing the full extent of the danger he was in.

Gibbs grabbed Tony's arm and pulled, but the leverage wasn't there. Fornell worked his way around the other side and wedged both arms between the men. It was no easy task pulling the larger NCIS agent off the smaller FBI agent but Tony finally let go when he heard her voice.

"Is everything okay?" Chantal asked from the doorway where both she and Ms. Hart were standing.

Ziva quickly turned them around and ushered them back inside, "Everything's fine. You know, boys being boys."

Gibbs pulled Tony back to the railing on the porch, and Fornell stood between the two, chastising his man, "Agent Higgens, get in the car!"

Stunned, Higgins argued, "What'd I do? I just want to find out about her! Look at him! He didn't get any sleep and it's obvious what they did all night. Besides, we're all curious down at the bureau!"

"Go!"

"We even took bets! We all want to know if she knows things the average guy doesn't!"

Gibbs and McGee were quick to grab Tony's arms again and present just enough of an obstacle for him to think twice about going after him again.

"That's an order, Higgins. Back to the car!"

Grumbling, he stepped off the porch and stalked away.

Fornell straightened his tie and replied, "I'm sorry about that, Agent DiNotso. What you do is your own business—"

"—I didn't do anything!" he seethed.

Even Fornell found it hard to believe that nothing happened. "I believe you," he lied, "but for now, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call us. Taking down Captain Bowers will close two open case files for us, so we're as vested in this as NCIS."

Tony shrugged away from his colleagues and replied, "Why don't you supply the protection detail for her then!"

"Because she won't testify unless you do it. But believe me, I have more than enough agents wanting this job."

"They can have it," he called after him. Then he noticed Gibbs and McGee staring at him and he mumbled, "Well, they can."

"What was that about?" Gibbs asked, although he may as well been referring to the phone call late last night as the encounter just a minute ago.

Tony froze, looking out over the mountains, wishing they'd never come out.

Gibbs gave McGee the look he gave when he wanted him to leave.

"Right…ah, if you need me, I'll be checking the perimeter of the house."

Alone on the porch, Gibbs' tone softened and he approached his agent, "C'mon, take a walk with me."

He was surprised when Tony followed. They walked single file down the path where Gibbs knew the location of a small pond. After ten minutes, the woods gave way to a clearing with a good sized pool of water whose surface was dotted with bright yellow and red leaves. Gibbs stared at it, taking in the crisp autumn smells that hinted of a fire burning somewhere off in the distance.

The walk had done him good and Tony felt the tension and irritability fade away. "I'm sorry about what happened back there."

Gibbs shrugged, "He had it coming."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "I wasn't expecting you. I wasn't expecting any of you."

"Ms. Hart is trying to convince her to let the FBI take over this detail."

Tony almost snorted out loud at the notion. "She'll never go for it. She doesn't trust the FBI, for one, and she doesn't like Fornell, for two."

"Maybe, but it's worth a try." Gibbs turned around and looked over his agent, sizing up (among other things) his state of mind.

Tony thought for sure the questions were coming. His brain raced for possible answers, but he was as blank now as he was last night.

But Gibbs just turned and started back down the path.

Relieved, Tony followed, thankful that he didn't press for answers about last night's three AM phone call.

******************************8

Tony watched them drive away knowing that M. Allison Hart didn't have much success; next to him stood Chantal, happily waving goodbye.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" she asked.

He looked down on her. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes were brown and accentuated by long black lashes. Her button nose was dwarfed by full lips that looked shiny even without any lipstick on, and she hid years' worth of aging behind a middle eastern ancestry of olive colored skin and baby-like softness. Her body, with not an ounce of fat, could best be described as voluptuous. At any given time, she could pass for twenty and not the forty-something that she was. _She could easily be her twin._

He looked away, "You're going to stay inside and I'm going to read the sports pages of the newspaper that Agent McGee brought me."

"Doesn't sound very exciting." She moved over next to him, rubbing her shoulder against his arm, "I could think of something to pass the time."

He pulled back and nervously laughed, "Ms. Payne, you have to understand that I'm on duty and can't be engaging in such activities."

She disregarded his excuse, "If you were undercover, you could. And please, call me Chantal."

_Chantal was just like her, having an answer for everything. And just like Chantal, she had wanted him to call her Hanna instead of Miss Votelli._ _The parallelism was uncanny, and scary_. He moved inside, and upon seeing her following him, he headed straight for the bathroom. In there, at least, he was afforded a small measure of privacy. He took deep breaths to calm his nerves.

****************************8

"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs," Allison said, "but she wasn't being very agreeable. I'm afraid she has her mind set on Agent DiNozzo. There wasn't much I could say to persuade her otherwise."

He ticked his head; his version of saying, 'thank you for trying.'

"We should have just pulled Tony off this detail and made Higgins babysit her." Ziva's voice was full of disdain, or was it jealousy? "On second thought, I should have stayed behind and done the job."

Tim nodded, "I have to agree that I haven't seen Tony that angry ever. He usually lets comments like that roll off his back, or better yet, he's the one to make such comments. I hate to admit it, but he can be pretty damn scary when he's mad."

Hart said, "I take it Higgins said something he didn't like."

"Oh, yeah," Gibbs said, remembering the look in Tony's eyes. But there was something more than anger. There was uncertainty. Dare he think it? Was DiNozzo afraid? Yes, it was fear the lingered just under the surface of his retinas. And that could interfere with his ability to do his job.

"Ziva," he said, "when we get back, I want a history of Chantal Payne. Anything written publicly about her, I want to read it. McGee, I want her life from the standpoint of private records. I want to know about any medical issues she's had, any legal problems, any business concerns. I want anything that didn't already make headlines."

"On it, Boss." After glancing at the lawyer's expression, he added, "And of course I'll get all the legal papers in order."

"And I'll get Abby to help," Ziva said. "She's been wanting to work on this case."

*****************************************8

Tony had showered and cleaned up some before he returned to the living room. Only she wasn't there. His heart skipped a beat as he hurried outside. She wasn't on the porch either, nor in the immediate area.

"Chantal!" he called.

He pulled his weapon and trotted down the driveway. "Chantal!"

He found her sitting next the pond. "Chantal, if you leave, you need to tell me. In case you've forgotten, there are people out there wanting you dead."

She didn't look too concerned. She shrugged off his request like one might wave off an annoying gnat. She looked up at him and asked, "Why don't you like me?"

He wasn't expecting such a pointed question. "It's not that I don't like you…it's that I have a job to do and romping around between the sheets interferes with my ability to do that job."

She looked him up and down, no doubt pleased by what she saw. "I see you showered. Feel better?"

She was so good at deflecting, or was it guiding, the conversation. _Just like her_.

He took in the fresh air again, ignoring her comment. As long as she kept her distance, he was going to be okay. And if she couldn't keep a safe distance, he was just going to have to keep one for her. He looked around, the shower and fresh air seemed to be doing him a world of good and he could practically feel the anxiety slide off his body as he peered over the glassy surface of the water at the reflection it made of the autumn trees. It was the perfect mirror image and if you took a picture, you'd be hard-pressed to determine the real trees from the reflection. Only the occasional air bubble disturbed the scene, causing a small ripple on the otherwise pristine surface.

The sun was warm against his face and he sat down on the bank in the soft grass that hadn't turned yet. He shot her a quick glance just to make sure she wasn't making any unwanted moves, but she seemed content to take in the morning sun too. His eyes were so heavy that he let them close for just a minute.

_That's right, let yourself relax, Anthony. Don't be afraid of what you see. These things are meant for pleasure. We'll take everything nice and slow. But first, do you know what a submissive is? _

_That night, she taught him things he never knew existed. She did things to him that were simultaneously painful and pleasurable. He didn't understand the feelings. How could something produce so much pain and agony, yet be so mysteriously… pleasing? Erotic? Sadistic? Sensual? Brutal? Exciting?_

He woke up, startled. Trying to separate reality from fiction. Was he dreaming or was she kissing him?

She was kissing him, a warm and sensuous kiss that made him question his own little reality, but it was real and she was taking him places—very dangerous places. He pushed her away and scrambled out from under her. "We can't!" he croaked, forcing his body to reject the stimulation.

She smiled, like she knew something he didn't. "You were having another dream. The next thing I knew, you were kissing me."

"That's a lie. I didn't kiss you."

'Was it?' her eyes said to him. She gently took his hand, brushing up against him, making him aware of his own aroused state.

"You have to leave me alone or I'm calling for another agent to guard you."

"If you do that, I won't testify. And if I don't testify, you don't have much of a case against Captain Bowers."

He was going to argue, but it was of no use. She held the cards, all of them. His lungs clenched at the trapped feeling.

"Relax, Agent DiNozzo, you're going to hyperventilate if you keep that up. There's something that you should know about me. I don't do anything to anybody without permission. But from what I heard you mumble, I think you already know that."

It felt like a vise had clamped around his head. Swallowing didn't help, nor did trying to concentrate on breathing. His urges were strong, yet he had managed to suppress them for years, but she was chipping away at that wall, causing parts of it to crumble. Like a child, he let her lead him back to the cabin.

She was smooth, telling him to lie down, making him comfortable and letting him drift off to sleep. It felt good to let the sandman take him but not until he'd made her promise to wake him if she heard any strange noises or felt in danger. She said she would, and he believed her. That was just one of the many mistakes he had made in his life.

*****************************8

TBC

**Thanks for the comments. As always, it keeps me going. So many of my stories die towards the end and become dust bunnies rolling around on my hard drive. Mostly, though, I never try to post a story that I don't at least having an ending for in my head. Thanks to everyone who has supplied me with meaningful criticism or is cheering me along! ~Jasmine**


	3. Chapter 3

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Abby swung her pigtails around when her computer dinged. Since morning, she had been blissfully working her way through pages of internet documents that McGee and Ziva had found on Ms. Chantal Payne. THE Chantal Payne. The woman who could bring down the most powerful men in the most powerful cities in the world, and had done so—many times. Needless to say, there were massive amounts of data on the woman, which is why Abby had been working non-stop for most of the day.

Alternative music blared in the background as she clicked and rolled the ball of her mouse, wondering which file had produced the match. Her brows knitted together at the images she saw. These weren't exactly the pictures of a sweet southern bell from Savannah, Georgia.

She scoured the page for the source of the match. It had come from an arrest record of Chantal's dating back to 2003. The state versus Chantal Payne, but it had never gone to trial and based on the lack of paper trail, it looked like the records in the case had been buried deep.

She went back to the images, clicking through each one, studying them. Even the most gothic friend she knew didn't have half the paraphernalia she saw in these pictures. It made her uncomfortable, and it didn't help matters that the sun had set hours ago.

"Abby," McGee said, sliding into the room with purpose, "have you finished going through those files yet? Gibbs is going to want answers."

She just looked at him.

He looked past her at the images on the monitor and made a face. "What's that?"

"That, McGee, is what is commonly referred to as an S&M chamber."

"Abby?" Ziva said, unaware her entrance was interrupting anything, "did you get the files I sent?"

She looked at her.

Ziva looked past the pigtails and asked, "What is that?"

Before either could answer, Gibbs entered, "What'd'ya got for me, Abs?"

"I have a 'Wow!', or I have an 'Eww!', it just depends on your point of view. I pulled these images off a sealed 2003 arrest record for Chantal Payne. From the notes, it appears our very powerful and very rich Ms. Payne is also into sadism and masochism."

He only slightly tilted his head at the information. "That might explain why she was able to take down some of the most powerful men in the country."

Abby shrugged, "Welcome to the world of S&M. This is an exclusive club, Gibbs, and not many people ever get to experience it, let alone see it. It's a world of dominants and submissives, and it can be a very dangerous place."

Gibbs studied the large screen as she flipped through photo after photo of harnesses, chains, whips, and beds.

"Who does this sort of thing?" Ziva asked.

"You'd be surprised. It could be your neighbor, a pastor, a rabbi, a teacher, even your run of the mill everyday housewife. From what I've learned, it's difficult to break away once you've been indoctrinated. And, get this, it's never forced on anyone, it's completely voluntary."

Ducky entered, unaware of the subject at hand, and looked at the plasma. "What in God's name is that?"

"That is a harness, and that is a branding iron, used by masochists who can't distinguish between pain and pleasure."

Gibbs looked away, his brain going down roads it shouldn't be. "So how does this connect to DiNozzo?"

Abby, Ziva and McGee stared at him, taken off guard by the question.

Frustrated, Gibbs faced them and opened his palms, "Well? Chantal Payne specifically selected DiNozzo to guard her. Why? Why him? She could have had any man from two agencies, yet she wanted him, and only him. In fact, she insisted that DiNozzo be her protection, _her only protection_, or she wouldn't testify. I want to know why."

Abby looked at Ziva and McGee waiting for someone to offer an explanation, but when they looked at each other, she knew they had nothing. Hesitantly, she ventured, "Because he's really handsome?"

Gibbs shook his head, "A woman like Chantal Payne can have anyone."

There was a brief period of silence before Ziva felt compelled to voice what she knew McGee was also thinking, "Maybe Tony is into S&M and she knows that somehow?"

"Tony?" Abby said, not believing it. "No way," she said, confident that her boy wasn't into any type of deviant behaviors. "I'd know if he were." She looked at her colleagues, all staring at her and then had second thoughts. Backing out of her statement, she admitted, "At least, I think I'd know."

Ziva reluctantly supported her claim, "You said it could be anyone. A teacher, a housewife, a rabbi. Why not a federal agent?"

"I don't believe it," McGee said, trying hard to convince himself. "Tony shares more information about his sex life than anyone I know. If he were doing these kinds of things, something would have slipped about it by now." His argument would have been more plausible if he had presented it less like a question.

"Duck," Gibbs said, turning his attention to the medical examiner, "profile someone who does this sort of thing."

"Well," Ducky began, "from what I understand, this defiant behavior involves a great deal of pain to enhance the sexual experience. The person who inflicts the pain is called a dominate. That person may have experienced sexual abuse as a child, or some form of neglect. As for personality traits, usually he or she is the quiet type, commanding, quite successful, and has a need to overachieve in everything, from simple tasks to complex endeavors. This person never settles for seconds."

"That doesn't exactly fit the profile of Tony," McGee said. "We all know he turned down Rota."

"And he is anything but quiet."

Gibbs' brain raced as he was trying to connect the dots between his senior agent and his key witness. "What about the other person, the one who receives the pain?"

Ducky continued, "Well, the person who is the dominate selects another person, usually of the opposite sex, and usually much younger. That person basically submits willingly to anything the dominate wants. It usually involves periods of excruciating pain followed by intense sexual pleasure. That person may have lived a completely normal life, but the important thing to note is that that person was specifically chosen by the dominant to become a submissive. As for personality traits, the submissive would most likely have commitment issues, definitely authority issues, be a master at deflection, and as adept at talking as he or she is at steering conversations where only _he or she_ wants them to go. In other words, if there is something he doesn't want to talk about, he simply changes the subject with ease and fluidity."

"Cue: subject change," McGee mumbled, more as a reminder of Tony's slick ability than anything else.

The obvious thoughts hung in the air as that profile seemed to fit their friend perfectly.

"That's why she wanted Tony," Gibbs said as he put it all together. "C'mon! Let's go!"

**************************************8

He woke up with a start. His mind was trying to meld together everything at once. He lifted himself off the bed and found his weapon, and then found her. "Are you okay?"

She smiled lazily. "Of course I'm okay, but I can't say the same about you." She had spent the afternoon watching him suffer through nightmare after nightmare. He may have been sleeping but he certainly wasn't getting any rest.

He ran a hand over his face and head and shook out some of the cobwebs. The house seemed secure, she appeared okay, and he was no worse for wear, albeit a little fuzzy headed and definitely out of sync with life. He went to the sink and got a glass of water.

Feeling better, he used the bathroom and returned to the small living space of the house. But her presence next to him did something to him. She made him feel weak and pathetic. With just one simple look, she could make him feel less than what he was; make him forget why he was there; make him not care.

He noticed Chantal was staring at him and asked, "Have you eaten? Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I've eaten, and no, I'm not hungry."

He nodded, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. He shouldn't be near her right now. He recognized the signals; he recognized how he'd felt and what it was going to mean later. He finally mumbled, "I shouldn't be here."

She moved closer and let her fingers lightly caress his back. "You should be here. I need protecting." She was a master manipulator and he knew this, but he was having a difficult time separating the segments of his life and they began melding in on one another. "We have all night together, Agent DiNozzo."

The idea of what was coming mystified him, _just like it used to mystify him years ago_. Her voice and her aroma toyed with his head, _just like it used to_.

"Enough!" he said, pushing her away. "I'm assigned to protect you. And that's all!"

She glided around the small space, _doing what she used to do_. _Hanna led him over to the shackles, explaining his role in this newfound fantasy world he was in. She teased him with touches and soon he was intoxicated by the idea of what she was saying. Goodbye sixteen, your world just changed. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks to months, he had discovered that there were so many things he didn't want to do. So many times he wanted to walk away. He learned quickly that this was a lifestyle that wasn't what is seemed, but he also learned that it was something you didn't leave. You couldn't leave. It grabbed hold of you and wrapped its tentacles so tightly around your body that breathing felt impossible, let alone escaping. _

"You want it," she said, "I can see it in your eyes. I saw it the first time I met you. I saw it when you interrogated me. We understand each other. I've been the dominant for so long now that all I want is to be the submissive for once. I want someone I can trust, someone who understands what it's like. Someone like you, Anthony. I'm yours to do whatever you want—"

In two strides, he went to her, kissing her hard, feeling the overwhelming urge to control; a new role for him. He'd never been the stronger one, the powerful one, _the dominant_. _She had never let him be the dominant. She had always said it was too dangerous. He could only be a submissive—she had never allowed him to be anything more. She said he had to perfect his role in order to experience more_.

She returned the passion, knocking over a lamp and shattering it. Clothes started coming off.

But wait; that's not how it's done. _She was right. I'm not ready for this._

"You're doing fine, Anthony. It's time you took control. It's time you learned the power you have. It's time to dominate someone who wants to be dominated!"

He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled, forcing her head back so she had no choice but to look up into his eyes. She was everything he had ever dreamed in a submissive. She was willing, able, and completely knowledgeable of what was going to happen. Most importantly, she wasn't afraid.

_One night it was the shackles, the next, it was the harness. There were many sessions with whips and chains, but few hurt as much as The Chair. There were hours of torture for just minutes of pleasure. And she didn't play by the rules. He had wanted to stop, but she didn't let him. She threatened him with lies to keep him shackled to her even when they were miles apart. He stopped enjoying it, realizing he'd never enjoyed it, but she gave him few choices. He was always reminded who was the dominant and who was the submissive. _

Her eyes were begging for him to begin, to control her, to force himself on her so she could struggle, in vain of course, but struggle so that when the moment of climax came, the intensity would be far greater than any agony he could inflict.

He looked into her eyes, those very eyes that became his. _Begging to be let go, released from the perversions she had so expertly inflicted on him. The feelings and emotions of one particular night washed over him, and he froze in the moment. It was then at that very moment when he finally realized that he had to escape this lifestyle, that it had never been worth the pain and suffering and humiliation that he had been made to endure_.

_But he didn't know how. She had scrambled his head so profoundly, twisted his most basic instinct into some perverse and abnormal behavior, until finally she had done the worst sin a dominant could ever do: turning a deaf ear to his pleas._ He wouldn't allow that uneasy feeling to dissolve and he fought to control it until something in his head switched on, and like a spotlight, his vision cleared and he saw her. More importantly, he saw himself controlling another human in a way that should never, ever, be done.

He pushed her away, dizzy from the encounter, his brain fighting hard to regain his senses and suppress the urges that _she_ had conditioned him to feel so long ago.

Dismayed, Chantal furrowed her brow, studying her victim. "What's wrong, darling? Are you looking for tools of our trade? I have only a few that I was able to bring, but there will be more later."

He ignored her, trying to focus on the chair, the picture, his boss, anything that would give him strength to fight this woman and her deviant ways.

Beginning to understand the extent of her rejection, she furrowed her brow refusing to accept her fate. She watched him stumble as the reality began to dawn on her that he was having a change of heart, and that her dream may never be realized. Coaxing him back, she reached for him again, "Come back, baby. I know we can make this work. I know that you remember how fantastic it feels."

But he pulled away, her hand like a hot iron on his skin.

"You can't stop," she toned, her anger building. "You can't turn it off just like that! I've waited years for this, finding the perfect man to fulfill my desires!"

He staggered backwards, still under the spell of Hanna, still trying to break away from a lifestyle that no one should ever experience. He couldn't face her because he didn't trust himself. Her pull was intense and if given the opportunity, she would consume him with her deviant ways. She gave him no choice but to run. He made it outside, into the cold night air, stumbling down the steps and onto the cold hard ground.

"This isn't about you!" she shouted. "I hand-picked you from hundreds of men!"

His head was pounding and he heard her yelling at him in the distance, but he kept moving until he finally sunk to the ground covering his ears and blocking out her screams.

_He couldn't take the shouting anymore, and it was always his own voice. She never stopped when he said the safe word, she was too far into her own fantasy to hear him. The crushing blows he endured combined with the bright lights and the physically impossible contortions became too much, but she had never let him leave._

The hand on his back just meant more pain to come. _Just like her, she followed him._ _She always came for him._ "Get away from me!" he demanded and slapped the hand off him. "I don't want to do this!"

But a strong hand grasped his bicep and he had no choice but to look at her. Only it wasn't Chantal he was looking at.

"Boss?" he said, trying hard to believe his eyes. _Back then he'd dream that his father would come and rescue him, but his father never did._ "Boss?" he repeated, thinking the image might dissolve.

"Yeah," Gibbs said, prepared for whichever emotion came next.

McGee and Ziva were less prepared at seeing him this way, outside in the middle of the night in nothing but jeans and an undershirt, down on his haunches and covering his ears against sounds nobody else could hear.

"Boss," his voice shaky, "I can't do this anymore."

"I know."

"I can't be alone with her—"

"I know," Gibbs said, still holding his agent's arms and trying to get a fix on his state of mind. "McGee, stay with him. Ziva, come with me."

Ziva did not want to leave her partner and she hesitated only a second before scurrying after her boss. Tim slid in next to him, taking his elbow and feeling the deep trembling that his entire body was experiencing. Only he knew it wasn't from the cold, it was from something much more sinister. "Can you make it to the car?"

Tony wasn't even aware there was a car nearby as Tim led him towards one. He sat down in the back seat, allowing the familiar smell to offer a degree of security and safety in his otherwise unsafe world.

Gibbs stood in the doorway to the safe house and looked around. A broken lamp lay in pieces on the floor, several articles of clothing were strewn about, the bed unmade, and Chantal standing by the window, watching her carefully thought-out scheme fade away.

"What'd you do to him?" he asked.

She sighed, the kind that accompanied defeat. She was never going to experience what she wanted with Special Agent DiNozzo, and probably would never see him again. But at least she had the kiss. The very powerful, passionate kiss to remember him by. "Unfortunately, we didn't do much of anything."

He stepped through the shards of ceramic remains and approached her. She was slightly tousled but looked a hell of a lot better than his agent. "You chose him for a reason. Why?"

She hesitated briefly before answering, "He has a history of S&M behavior."

"How do you know that?" Ziva asked.

"It's not something you know, Agent David. It's something you feel."

Ziva knitted her brow, casting a quick glance to her boss.

Chantal continued, "The first time I saw NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and my stomach flipped. Finding another person who has experience with this sort of thing is rare, so rare that when I connected my reaction to his knowledge of S&M, I could barely contain my excitement. That's why I made the deal to roll over on Captain Bowers in exchange for giving me two days of privacy with Agent DiNozzo. Only you couldn't do that," she sneered.

Gibbs and Ziva remained silent, their own minds racing.

Chantal paused, observing them closely, until something dawned on her. "You never knew, did you?" she mused, finding it powerful that she knew something about one of his agents that even the great Jethro Leroy Gibbs didn't know. Another thought slammed into her head, "And I bet Agent Fornell has no idea, either." She felt like laughing out loud. "I can't imagine how it must feel to learn that one of your own men is intimately familiar with the practices of Sadomasochism. You must feel pretty stupid right about now."

"No. Just angry with myself for agreeing to your terms."

"So you _do_ remember my terms. That's good because if you take Agent DiNozzo away from me, I won't testify."

Gibbs looked around, biding his time as he formulated his words. He removed his badge and weapon and handed them to Ziva and approached the woman slowly.

The witness quickly lost her smile. In fact, she lost her confidence and took several steps backwards, away from the man coming at her.

"Let me tell you my terms, Ms. Payne. I'm taking Special Agent DiNozzo home with me and leaving Special Agent David to guard you the rest of the night. Tomorrow, she'll take you to the courthouse where you'll testify against Captain Bowers. If you do not testify, I'll make sure your name is leaked out as the witness who rolled. Once all your victims hear that you're the one who provided state's evidence, there won't be a hole deep enough for you hide in."

"You can't do that! I'm a federal witness with federal protection!"

He cocked his head and gave her a lopsided grin, _'Oh yeah, I can.'_

Ziva loved this side of her boss. He could turn tables faster than anyone she knew and by the woman's expression, it was very effective. Ziva stood in the doorway as he left, handing him back his badge and weapon when he walked past. She thought of Tony, the way he trembled and his lost expression, and wished she could be with him. But Gibbs was taking him home and he would take care of him. In the meantime, she had a witness to protect, or guard, depending on your point of view. She turned back around to better face the woman who didn't look so confident anymore, "I would not test Agent Gibbs, if that is what you are thinking. He is true to his word. And if he weren't, I am."

Chantal Payne glared. Rarely did she feel beaten, and the thought of going back to her previous life didn't excite her in the least. In addition, she knew what was in store for her future. She was sentenced to thinking about Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and the kiss they shared, and then she would have to resort to her own imagination as to what could have been.

TBC

**To those who have written comments, many many thanks. ~Jasmine**


	4. Chapter 4

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Gibbs pressed the car keys into McGee's hand and slid into the backseat with his agent. Tony wore an unfamiliar expression. He was always so carefree and fun loving, so it was unusual to see him tense and nervous. Every muscle in his face and neck was taut, and the rest of him seemed anxious. Between bouts of shivering, Gibbs half expected him to snap at the least bit of provocation, which is one of the reasons he wanted McGee to drive.

For the first hour, nothing was said. Tim sent occasional glances to the backseat where he could see Tony in his rear view mirror, but he just stared out the window at the passing scenery. The second hour proved different.

"I'm sorry, Boss."

Tim could barely hear him but a glance in the mirrow saw Tony with a downcast gaze, confirming that he had indeed said something.

Gibbs had spent the better part of the ride digesting her words. Now, he had to tread carefully if he was going to be any help to his agent. "What happened back there?" he asked quietly, hoping the question alone wouldn't shut him down.

Tony swallowed, struggling with his thoughts, and the words to tell his boss what had happened without revealing a past that he was ashamed of. "She brought back a lot of bad memories." Staring out the window again, but clearly not seeing the scenery anymore, he tried to continue. "I went through… She tried to… I mean, when I was…" he didn't know how to begin and finally stopped trying. He slunk down further into the seat.

If Tim hadn't been witnessing it, he would not have believed it. Tony looked embarrassed, and coming from a man who was virtually impossible to shame, that stunned him. He looked back at the road, affording his colleague some semblance of privacy.

Gibbs saw Tony's jaw muscles clenching and releasing, and then he heard the heavier yet shakier breathing, and realized that Tony was physically showing signs of distress, something he'd only seen on one other occasion.

"Just breathe normally and it'll come to you."

Another twenty minutes passed in silence. Finally, Tony inhaled, taking in the cool air, and forcing his brain to function again. Slowly, he began telling his story, "There was an event in my life that I wish I could just forget about but that's not exactly possible. It was a dark and dangerous time and… well, I don't ever think about it, haven't thought about it in years, and I never practice—" he cut himself off, averting his eyes again and rerouting his thoughts, hoping he hadn't given too much of himself away already. He let a minute pass before continuing, "I've spent years burying it and thought I'd done a decent job of forgetting, at least until she came along," he said, dropping his head and fumbling with his hands.

Gibbs observed, balancing on that fine line of time between pushing for too much information and waiting too long. He finally asked, "What did she do?"

Tim waited. Another five minutes elapsed before he spoke, and to Tim, it was like Tony was rehearsing his words before he said each one.

"She knew all the right things to say to me, and she tapped into feelings that—" his hand shot to his temple and he rubbed, hoping to stop the pain before it took hold of him. "I didn't know what she wanted at first." He stopped as if thinking about something else, then added, _"…just like her_."

Shaking his head back to the present, he continued, "When I realized what it was she was after, I knew it was wrong, but I didn't know how to stop her, and the awful thing is, I'm not sure I wanted to," he had added, barely audible. "But when she touched me, it was like a hot iron, and the memories started to come back, slowly at first, but then they were everywhere and I told her that I didn't want any part of this anymore. But she never heard me, Boss. _Just like she never heard me then, either._"

Gibbs was having a tough time following some of what Tony was saying, but he figured it would all fall into line eventually if he treaded softly. "What kind of memories?"

Tony rubbed both temples now trying to assuage the throbbing. "Bad memories of something that happened to me a long time ago. I got involved in a world that nobody should ever be a part of, much less know exists. It's painful, humiliating, and secretive, and comes with few pleasures, although, admittedly, extremely intense ones."

"Who did this to you?" Gibbs whispered, understanding the importance of keeping the conversation moving along now that he was talking.

McGee studied his colleague. He was genuinely distraught and it was unnerving for Tim to see him like that. Tony was always so confident and self-assured, and to see him this way was something new. But he couldn't help but wonder what it was like to be part of that world, the S&M world. As a federal agent, he'd actually seen very little of it. It seemed exclusive to the very rich, the ones who didn't often get caught at such things. He had read about it once in one of his forensics' classes, but even then, there was a lot that law enforcement didn't know, other than it was virtually impossible to get any sort of conviction.

Tony rolled down his window and let the cold air blow on his face. It felt good. He began to wonder what his colleagues would think of him if they knew his past. He only really cared about one, and he couldn't bring himself to look at him right now. Maybe this is all a bad dream and he'd wake up and realize it wasn't really happening. He leaned his head back at the pathetic thought.

Gibbs waited patiently, but he didn't learn anything more. Tony had closed his eyes and was alone to fight his own demons.

TBC

**Short chapter, but I'm trying to bring it to a close. To those who have commented and caught some of my mistakes give yourself a piece of chocolate! You deserve it! Many thanks. ~Jasmine**


	5. Chapter 5

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"Hey, wake up. We're home."

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder and lifted his head. He was surprised to see they were no longer driving down the highway but were instead parked outside a house. "Whose home?" he mumbled.

"Gibbs," McGee said, standing patiently at the car door. When Tony didn't show any signs of getting out, he peered inside and asked, "You doing okay? You need some help?"

"With what? This isn't my house."

"C'mon, DiNozzo, you're staying with me tonight."

Tony swung his head around at his boss' voice. With slightly clearer thinking, the last thing he wanted to do was stay with Gibbs. He'd already exposed too much of himself as it was, but he was also never very good at going up against Leroy Jethro Gibbs. "Ah, that's okay, Boss. I think I'll go home."

Gibbs simply motioned with his finger and started for his front door.

Tim waited expectantly for Tony to get out so he could drive himself home; after all, it'd been a long day and an even longer night, but his colleague wasn't moving. "C'mon Tony. You're not going to win this argument."

Reluctantly, he got out of the car and looked down at what he was wearing: jeans and an undershirt. He was cold and embarrassed.

"I can stop by your place and bring you some clean clothes if you want?"

"Why don't you just drive me home and I can get them myself."

"I think you know the answer to that—"

"—Why does everyone want to control me!"

Tim was taken aback by the sudden venom in his voice and said, "You've been through a lot, Tony. Leaving you alone right now isn't a good idea."

"What the hell do you—" he stopped short, realizing his anger was displaced. Looking at McGee, he felt that he didn't deserve that kind of treatment and patted his chest as he slowly walked by, "I'm sorry, Tim."

McGee wasn't sure which was more shocking: the S&M revelation or the apology. But he decided against making any comment about that, yet. As soon as Tony disappeared inside, he slid back into the driver's seat and left.

Inside the house, Tony found Gibbs in his basement with one of his many wood working tools already in hand. "Boss…," he began, not really knowing how to present his argument.

Gibbs looked up briefly before returning to his task, "You know which bedroom to take. Make yourself comfortable and get some sleep."

Tony was relieved that he didn't want any details. He was also relieved that Gibbs didn't necessarily want to talk. That was definitely one of boss's best traits, he decided. On his way upstairs, he passed a bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He hadn't shaved in several days, and he was pale with bags under his eyes. It felt awkward to him to be in such a state, but he was glad he wasn't at the safe house anymore, really glad. Even if he still wasn't at home, at least he didn't have to contend with the likes of Chantal Payne. He found the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Too tired to do much more than that, he laid back and promptly fell asleep.

In the basement, Gibbs had set his tools down and was staring at the wood. Just when he thought he'd heard it all, along comes another twist in the life of Anthony DiNozzo. How many secrets can one man have?

S&M. Sadism and Masochism. Once, a long time ago, he had worked a case that involved it. It was a difficult case and when it was all said and done, the numerous parties involved just picked up where they had left off. The fact that one of them had died as a result of such brutality didn't seem to change their behavior. In fact, if Gibbs read them correctly, it only served to heighten the sexual experience that they seemed eager to return to.

So how does S&M fit into DiNozzo's life? Is he still doing it? And with whom? There were a lot of questions that needed answering, but Tony was formidable when he felt trapped, and if he wanted answers, there's one thing he knew for sure: he had to approach cautiously.

Two floors away, Tony was back inside the room, not the bedroom, but _the love chambers, as she affectionately referred to the attic above the gallery. She was using a cattle prod, shooting volts of electricity through his body that left him twitching and breathless. "Stop! I can't take it anymore!" he cried out, pulling on the shackles that bound his wrists and ankles to the posts of the bed. She ignored him as she usually did and turned her attention to his body, forcing him to abandon his demands and enjoy the pleasure of his own arousal. "I don't want that either! I've said the safe word, now let me go!" But instead, she enveloped his mouth with her own and continued her sensuous ministrations. This was her tactic. She would often bring him to the brink of sexual intensity, and then back off, confusing him so he didn't know what he really wanted and therefore justifying all her own actions._

"_Stop! Damnit! Stop!" _

Suddenly he realized he wasn't shackled anymore and he could defend himself. He pushed her with what little strength he had left and fell off the bed. Escaping. She somehow managed to grab hold of him again, but this time he shoved her, harder, sending her backwards and giving him time to find the door. He didn't remember the hallway, but he found the steps and stumbled down them. Nothing was familiar. There had been no stacks of paintings or sculptors strewn about, and the front door was different. This wasn't right. And just like that, he realized he wasn't in Hanna's gallery, but Gibbs' house. He blinked, trying to focus his mind on his surroundings, trying to slow his breathing. Finally, he closed the front door and leaned his head against it, cursing the moment he gave himself to that woman.

He sensed him rather than heard him; Gibbs sitting on the steps behind him. How could he face him? How could he yet again explain away some childhood drama that he knew his boss didn't want to hear? His boss, a man who had potentially more demons than anyone to contend with and who had learned to deal with them in the privacy of his own home, was no doubt waiting for answers. The years of running and hiding weighed heavy upon his shoulders. With his forehead still resting against the front door, he whispered, "You should take me home."

"If that's what you want."

He pushed off the door and took a shaky breath, embarrassed by his behavior, his past, his problems, "Yeah, that's what I want."

"Why don't you have a seat while I get my keys."

Tony walked into the living room and sat down. The fire was burning low but there was still enough flame to send off heat and it felt good. He wanted to be alone but he was tired of feeling lonely. He felt safe here on the sofa in Gibbs' house. He melded back into the cushions understanding why his boss preferred to sleep here rather than on a hard mattress.

Gibbs returned with his keys and sat down next to him. "You want to talk about it?"

Tony's moaned; his body wilted. It wasn't a question of wanting to, it was a question of being able to. He had never told anybody about it, and to sit on his boss' sofa and confess his shortcomings wasn't something he had ever planned on doing. But he did seem to feel some deep-seeded need to explain. If only to convince himself that he's not some sexual deviate with sadistic tendencies. "I don't know where to begin."

"The beginning's always good."

Tony sighed, sinking lower into the cushion and leaning his head back. After a few minutes, he said, "Her name was Hanna Votelli. She was my mother's best friend. It was my sixteenth birthday and she told me that she had a surprise for me." He stared at the ceiling. "That's when it began, and what followed was two years of hell."

"What did she do?"

Tony's body tensed and Gibbs thought he wasn't going to answer. Where Tony was concerned, it was sometimes best to let him set his own pace. In a voice barely audible, he said, "I don't want to tell you what she did."

Like an interrogation, Gibbs knew that the order of questioning was paramount to a confession. The wrong question asked at the wrong time could turn a session faster than being interrupted. Only problem was, this wasn't an interrogation. Gibbs allowed his lockstep brain to play out the conversation in his head, and thereby concluding which question was the best one to ask next. Quietly he said, "Why didn't you tell somebody?"

With what little strength Tony had left, he snorted, "Like my father? He would have beaten the shit out of me claiming it was somehow my fault, that I must have seduced her. And then he would have sent me off to another boarding school. No… there was no telling… no escaping her. She was good, experienced at what she did, and she told me all kinds of things that ensured my silence."

"How'd you end it?"

"I left for college, and prayed she wouldn't follow me. I spent the first semester looking over my shoulder, thinking every woman I met wanted me for their sick pleasure. I couldn't seem to shake the paranoia until I almost lost my starting position on the team, that's when I decided something had to give. So, I submerged myself into my game and my fraternity. I did some really stupid things in college, Boss, but a part of me didn't care what happened to me. At least I wouldn't have those damn memories haunting me anymore."

"What happened to her?"

Tony inhaled deeply, therapeutically, "I don't know. I never went by her gallery; I never even asked my father about her. As far as I was concerned, she was out of my life and that was fine with me. The S&M world is not a good place to be, Gibbs. It's dangerous and—" he stopped short, embarrassed at what he'd just said, and worried the surfacing memories would overpower him again.

Gibbs wanted to reach over and place a hand on his shoulder, but instead, he quietly said, "It's okay, Tony. You don't have to remember."

"—But I want to," he countered, "…I _need_ to." He took another deep breath and continued, "I've never told anyone this before. It's a world where everyone involved does so willingly. It's never supposed to be forced on anyone, but I guess she didn't get the memo. I didn't want to be a part of it, and I told her that after the first—" he flashed a quick glance sideways, embarrassed to have said so much, but Gibbs didn't look angry or disgusted, so he finished his sentence, "…encounter. But she wouldn't believe me. She seemed to know all my weaknesses. She knew I missed my mother and so she became a surrogate of sorts, attending my father's dinner parties, honing her skills, doing what my father never did, which was to recognize my accomplishments and brag about them.

"That's when I would let down my guard, and feel indebted to her. She would use that against me, guilting me into being her sex—" he stopped again, turning his head away, and shutting his eyes.

"Then, one night, she went too far. I didn't want to be in that room. I didn't want to be with her. I had barely recovered from the last session where she—" he cut himself off, and shook his head of the memories. They weren't important to tell, he decided, and he forced himself to redirect his thoughts. "These sessions didn't happen very frequently. She was savvy that way, letting just enough time pass to make me forget the brutality. But this time, this time, she…" his breath quavered at the memory. Inhaling deeply, he shook his head again trying to rid it of the myriad of visions and images. "She almost killed me. I woke up in a hospital and God only knows the story she told the doctors, but not one damn person asked _me_ what had happened! Not one!"

This time, Gibbs did reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the agitation as it slowly left his body. Very few things riveted Gibbs, but this story captured his attention like no other. He felt a deep and profound sadness over what he was hearing. Tony wasn't asking for forgiveness nor was he waiting for some sort of approval, he simply needed someone to understand what he'd gone through and not judge him for it. And so Gibbs gently massaged his shoulder, trying to offer comfort in a world that was anything but, while he himself, tried to make sense of his senior agent's life as an unsuspecting teenager.

Tony looked away, but this time, he could feel the demons of his secrets leaving his body. He probably should have spoken of this years ago, but he was well adept at burying bad memories when he had to. He worried about Gibbs' reaction to his story, but the fatigue and exhaustion were clouding his thinking, and with the security of his boss' hand messaging his shoulder and the warmth of the fire penetrating his skin, he leaned his head back, no longer feeling the heavy burden of guilt and disgust over what he'd done.

After a few minutes, Gibbs heard the deep rhythmic breathing of someone who had submitted to years of sleeplessness. He stood up and stoked the fire, letting the last of the flames heat the room, and then draped a blanket over his agent. There was a sort of serenity in Tony's expression as he lay sleeping. He moved to the overstuffed chair and sat down and thought about the story he'd just heard.

How does something like this happen to a sixteen year old boy? Seduced by a trusted family friend, yet he had no one to turn to for help. Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose as it was a thought he couldn't bear to have. At sixteen, Tony wasn't naïve, but he wouldn't know how to handle a woman with nefarious plans for him. And when Gibbs thought about him not being able to break away, it gave him insight into a boy's world whose insecurities were easily extorted. Sometimes he wondered how much disappointment this man could take in life.

The sun would be rising soon, and he needed to get at least a couple hours sleep. He leaned his head back and tried to rid his visions of all the perverted sex acts that had been brought against his friend so many years ago.

Sleep was elusive.

***********************************8

McGee walked through his boss' front door tentatively. It had always struck him as odd that he left his door unlocked, but Gibbs was not exactly the epitome of normal, so he pushed it open slowly and peered inside. Noting nothing of interest, he shut it behind him and walked towards the kitchen. He stopped when he felt the presence of someone in the living room. Turning slowly, he realized there was a body stretched out on the sofa hidden under a blanket.

"McGee," came a whisper from across the room.

"Yeah," he said, diverting his attention off the couch and towards the kitchen.

Gibbs was dressed in a suit. "Stay with him until I get back. If he wakes up, he may want to come to the hearing and I'd rather he didn't do that."

McGee understood and nodded. "Got it, Boss." And he watched as Gibbs walked towards the door, picked up his keys, and left.

Noting there was nothing to eat or drink in the house, he retrieved his laptop from his car and set it up at the kitchen table. He figured he could keep an eye on his colleague while catching up on some paperwork. He had no sooner begun typing when he heard Tony stir. He carefully watched him to see if he was going to wake up, but he simply rolled over and sunk back into a deep slumber.

****************************8

The drive to the courthouse was thoughtful. Gibbs kept it that way because if he didn't, no telling what he was capable of doing when he saw her. Chantal and Ziva were already seated in the Witness Waiting Room when he walked in. And so was Fornell, only he didn't look nearly as happy as the last time he saw him.

"What in the Hell is going on?" Fornell whispered, taking Gibbs by the elbow and escorting him back out the door.

Gibbs sized up his irritation and determined he probably had good reason to be annoyed.

"I come in this morning expecting her to testify against Bowers and I find Agent David as her protection detail. She was very clear, Jethro, on who she wanted. If you've mess this up…"

"Relax, Tobias, she's going to testify just as promised."

"Why isn't Agent DiNotso with her?"

Gibbs shrugged, "Something came up."

"Oh, just like that, something came up? What the hell is more important than guaranteeing a conviction against Captain Bowers?"

Gibbs tossed that question around a few seconds before answering, "Extenuating circumstances came up. What are you so mad about? She's here and she's going to testify."

"I hope you're right."

Jethro looked in the waiting room at Chantal Payne's expression, and he knew that he was.

**********************************8

Gibbs sat at his desk, aware that Tony was due back in the office today. He had given him the rest of the week off and if he knew his agent, it would be just enough time for him to shake the demons of his past (or bury them again) and return with a new sense of purpose. And he wasn't disappointed. Tony walked in a few minutes later, energized, animated, and above all, talkative.

"Good morning, fellow NCIS agents."

Ziva had missed him and was immensely glad that he was back. "You are chippy today," she commented.

"Chipper, Ziva. I'm chipper today is the saying."

"Whatever, you seem much happier."

"I am. I had a wonderful weekend in New York."

"Did you see your father?" McGee asked.

"No, he's out of town, but I did look up some old friends."

"Spent time in the county lockup, huh?"

"Funny, McGee," he said, while stowing his badge and gun. Noticing a folder on his desk, he picked it up and asked, "What's this?"

"That is your report," Ziva answered. "McGee and I finished it for you."

Tony was genuinely appreciative. Coming back into the office and facing hours' worth of paperwork on the Bowers case was definitely something he wasn't looking forward to. "Thanks. I mean that, too."

McGee and Ziva smiled at his gratitude and when he seemed settled in, they returned to their respective tasks.

Tony waited until the curiosity in him had disappeared before sauntering over to his boss' desk.

Gibbs looked up expectantly.

Quietly, and almost ashamedly, he said, "She's dead. Car accident, five years ago."

Gibbs nodded, "And so is what she did."

"Yeah."

Gibbs returned to his papers and Tony returned to his desk. He looked at each one of his colleagues, working diligently, their opinion of him unchanged. Things were back to normal. Bowers was behind bars, and Chantal was whisked off to some unidentified place where she could find some other sadist to be her toy. He almost allowed himself a smile. But he knew better. He knew this wasn't over. It would never be over, not as long as she was out there somewhere. He knew the mind of someone like Chantal Payne, and she wouldn't give up just because she had a new name and a place to live.

And then, what would he do?

~~Fini

_**Thanks for reading and commenting. Many of your comments serve as my inspiration to finish my stories. I have always wanted to write a flashback story but I wasn't sure if I could pull it off smoothly. Still not sure that the use of italics is the best way, but if I write another one, maybe I'll try a different approach. To answer one question that was asked: I probably won't get tired of writing about Tony for awhile. He's just such a great character to work with. I just started another story with Tony and Abby as my focus characters (not sexually, more like confidants). But I have forty some stories unfinished and screaming for attention, so no telling its fate. Thank you for reading!~Jasmine **_


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